Brick
by Chloe6
Summary: No reply, no familiar footsteps behind him."


**Disclaimer:** me don't own Criminal intent or its characters, nor do I have any association with Dick Wolf. Suing me ain't gonna reap any financial rewards, so please don't!

**Authors note**: I was gonna get back into a proper cop fic, but it got shelved after bout 500 words as it required research, so I compromised and came up with this. It's named after the Ben Folds Five song of the same name, possibly my most favourite song eva, which I also don't own. 

  Please R & R!! :) 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The sweet smell of rain clouded her mind as she stepped through the tepid water that graced the ground, her boots cold, her feet colder and her mind drifting as her eyes followed him. Over and over, always following him. The number of two am phone calls in the last month passes a dozen and still counting, over and over. Her eyes focused on the body, lying restfully on the earth. Pale, pure even, his spine slightly curved, vaguely hiding a common yet porcelain face. A boy, barely thirteen, his pale skin contrasted with streaks of sharp crimson, his lips bearing the sinister blue of death.

Her partner, the consummate professional was already perched over the body, surely comprehending every scrap of physical evidence, one of life's certainties. Death, Taxes and Goren. It was quite the scene, a possible homicide in the mayor's backyard. No, the headlines would scream _'murder'_, a juicy word, a word that burned with human fascination. Trivializing the sentiments of that angelic face, and producing sensationalized tale that could be artful fed to the city's individuals. She was too cynical. Maybe she had been in this job too long. 

She raised her hand to her mouth, slightly covering the lines of disturbance that gathered at its corners. She furrowed her brow, and swallowed deep as he peeled back the blood stained arms of the boy's shirt, revealing two or three impassioned slashes along his fresh skin. Her partner returned his gaze to see her troubled eyes, he turned away, and their silent agreement to bare the load was fleeting in its absence. 

His brow creased in interest as a slight glimpse of silver caught his attention. "Eames?" He murmured, just loud enough for her to hear. No reply, no familiar footsteps behind him. He turned, swivelling his bodyweight, balanced neatly on the balls of his feet. 

"Eames, I've got the knife." She wasn't there and he wasn't half surprised. He turned to the CSU, who had produced a bag for the knife.

"You see where my partner went." 

The young man shrugged, eyes widening in surprise as the detective rose back to his feet, snapping off his latex gloves. "Hey man, wait. Are we done here?" The CSU questioned in vain.

~*~*~*~

"Excuse me, I was directed that you were in charge here." A cold voice muttered into the stifled air. A sharp hand biting at her shoulder brought Alex back from her daze.

"I'm sorry." She replied incoherently, turning to see the mayor's face. 

"Do you think we could have this cleaned up quickly?"

"I'm sure everyone's doing there best." She replied, annoyed.

"Well, look. I don't need this with elections coming up."

"I'm not going to risk missing something important. And before you jump on that political high horse I suggest you take a look at what…" she spat back, pausing as she sensed his familiar presence behind her, and his huge hand on her shoulder. 

"Alex," Goren said, looking up at the look of defiance on the Majors face. "I need you to see something."

She looked around to her partner, and biting her tongue, nodded. Following the guidance of his hand on her back's middle as he led her away. "What did you say to him?"

"Nothing Goren." 

"Must have exchanged some pretty volatile nothings. He looked like he wanted to deck you." 

"Screw him." She mumbled under her breath.  He gently stopped her from walking back to scene with a urgent arm across her waist.

 "You don't need to go back there."

"What did you want me to show me?"  

"Nothing. I didn't want the mayor shit stirring." Goren looked over at her with his deep eyes; his hands in his pockets and his weight slumped. "Alex, I think it was suicide." He said, lifting a hand close on her shoulder.

She raised her hand to her brow and nodded. "Was there a note?"

He shook his head. "But the slices, they were made with opposing hands, and he struggled with the attempt. The knife." He paused. "The knife was found next to him."

She nodded. "So you're sure?"

He didn't really respond, and the expression in his eyes stayed vague. "Yeah."

Alex's eyes were fixed towards the ebony bag being carted into an ambulance. "Alex, we could go get something to drink."

"At 3am." She replied incredulously. "I'd rather just go back to bed." 

He nodded, and they walked placidly back to the car. The mood was stale, the constant of the last few months. The air was second hand with despondence and almost like self-fulfilling prophecy, another day was hazed black; yet it had barely begun.

Alex's eyes fixed strongly on the road ahead, the tension obvious in her arms, and the way her frame shuffled in unease against the cool leather.  "Bobby. Do you ever hate it?"

His eyes fluttered as they awoke from the trace induced by the hypnotic white lines of the road. He turned his head to her, resting it against the headrest. His lips parted on slightly. "Hate what?"

"This work."

"It could be worse." He replied, attempting play it down.

"How?" 

"Alex?" he protested.

She gazed over at him. Her face painted with an invisible ink, it was a look that he couldn't define. "What do you really think?"

"I don't know." He stopped, and searched the imitation light thrown by the headlights for the answer. "Maybe it gives me a purpose." He paused, assessing the mood. "Alex, you can't take this shit home with you, it will rip you up inside."

The silence echoed until they pulled into Goren's drive.

He took off his seatbelt and looked over at her. "I'm sorry, I didn't know what to say that wouldn't be another contradiction."

She nodded, looking down at her hands, then back to him. "I'll be fine." 

His face seemed anxious as he paused for words, his cheek still pressing against the seats leather, "Eames, this isn't perfect, and the systems screwed, but I've never doubted you." He leaned over and kissed her forehead, then eased his weight out of the car door.

She nodded, her expression lethargic. "Night." She mouthed loosely. 

"Morning." He corrected, and she smiled, slightly.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


End file.
